Asuna and Kirito: Offline Love

Hey readers, hope you enjoy this sweet oneshot I was inspired very suddenly to write! This is my first fanfic, but flames are still welcome! Thank you for reading!!! Please review!!!
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Kazuto walked through the school courtyard, tugging his customary black jacket tighter around him. Passing the tall, ornate gates, he jumped smoothly onto his old bicycle and rode the opposite way of his home. He thought back to his and his mother's conversation before he had left that morning.

"Oh, er, Mom?"

She looked up from finishing Sugu's sandwich for lunch that day. "Yes, Kazuto?"

"Well," he started, knowing he could make this sound terrible. Smirking slightly, he restarted his question. "Could I stop by a bar on my way home from school today? For a couple hours or so?"

Dropping the second sandwich entirely, she stared at him wide-eyed, silently demanding for an explanation. Kazuto sighed at her lack of humor.

"There's an offline meeting after school at Agil's coffee house bar for a few hours. There will be plenty of people I know there, and some are younger than me. I'd really like to go see them, I haven't for a few months."

His mom finally consented then, with a few more pleas and promises of helping with the dishes at home for supper.

Shivering slightly, Kazuto pulled his bike up onto the curb by Agil's shop. Leaving it by the door on its kickstand, he stood for a moment in front of the door. Was this the place where he might reunite with his in-game wife? His love? He didn't know, and the fact scared him more than he would care to admit. He pushed open the wooden door into the warmly lit bar.

Not many people were there yet (he checked his watch; 4:18.. It started at 4:30..)  but there were still some people he recognized, not excluding the bartender, Agil, who was grinning at him from behind the bar. People shouted or whispered when the 'Black Swordsman' walked in. Kazuto tried to smile graciously at his fans, but he walked on up to the bar in an attempt to ignore them, giving Agil the fist bump they always had shared in the game. Perching on a bar stool on the end, he looked at the man on the nearest bar stool, who seemed to be staring expectantly at him.